


The Making of a King

by Cheap_Plastic_Bouncy_Ball



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Growing up in Menegroth, Thranduil's Youth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9496154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheap_Plastic_Bouncy_Ball/pseuds/Cheap_Plastic_Bouncy_Ball
Summary: After the loss of his wife, Thranduil lays in his sickbed and tells stories of his youth to his son, Legolas. A collection of stories told of Thranduil's life from various points of view. Usually Thranduil's, sometimes Galadriel, Celeborn and Elrond among other Tolkien characters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am no Tolkien scholar, though I've been doing so much research I wonder how it is one even becomes one. It is such a complicated world.
> 
> I try desperately to work in the constraints of the world Tolkien created along with all its lore, but it is not easy. This fic will make many suppositions and likely incorrect relationship connections and I doubt anyone will be upset, but I try not to mess with the house Tolkien built as much as possible. 
> 
> Thranduil was born in the First Age by all accounts but no one knows how old he is. Also, next to nothing is known about his father, Oropher, but I am going to assume that like Celeborn, he is a kinsman of Thingol himself and likely somewhat closely related to Galadriel.
> 
> Also, this is based on the film trilogy as there is no mention in Tolkien of anything happening to Thranduil or his wife. 
> 
> Also, warning! ANGST!! Because that seems to be my gift.

"I want to go home," young Legolas whispered as he hid his face in silver and gold waves of hair as he wept and was rocked gentle arms. "I want my naneth." His declaration was followed by sobs as a soothing voice wove magic meant to comfort. Unfortunately no magic could penetrate the depth of his grief.

He didn't understand that his mother had died. He didn't understand why his father was too sick to see him. Even more he didn't understand the magnitude of the tears his unlikely nursemaid shed with him as she cared for him through the first dark days and weeks of his loss.

Lady Galadriel had believed that her tears had long ago been spent. She had believed that an iron will and steely self control protected her from such an outpouring of emotion. But, a mother's heart beat in her chest and little Legolas' loss was heart rending. For all her many millennia of life she was still flesh and blood and her heart was wrung raw by the grief of one small heart broken little ellon who had been left alone in the darkness. 

When at the end of a long, sad day she sought comfort in her husband's arms. She who had always been a beacon of strength and courage, took comfort by sobbing into his shoulder while he held her tight. Never had he loved her so much and ever would that feeling grow. He was grateful she was so strong. He knew if he had lost his wife he would quickly fail and his sympathy and admiration for Thranduil grew. 

For now, she held Legolas as he wept. He was young yet, too young to be so forcefully separated from his mother's care. She had seen his spirit flicker and dim. It would be far too easy for his little light to go out. As she had told Celeborn, she would not let him go.

"When can I see Ada?" he asked. It was a question that always came at this time of night after he woke from a nightmare. "Perhaps in the morning," Galadriel had answered each time. When tomorrow came it was an impossibility.

\---

Thranduil sat in a chair as Legolas walked into the darkened room. He had at his insistence been braced into the sitting position though his body had not recovered from its injuries. In the past he would have opened his arms and Legolas would have run to him laughing and they would talk about their day together. Now Legolas hesitated. 

"Ada," he finally said and Thranduil turned stiffly. He did not open his arms for Legolas to run into. Instead he lifted his fingers in a gesture Legolas understood to mean come closer and so he did.

"Legolas," Thranduil whispered then sighed. He frowned as he looked at the golden haired ellon and wondered why he had let Galadriel talk him into this. He didn't want to face his son or think of how desperately he had failed him and his naneth.

"Why is it so dark?" Legolas asked.

"Because I cannot bear the light," Thranduil answered. "It hurts my eyes." And my heart and my soul, he would have said to anyone else but Legolas. Then again if anyone other than his son had dared to invade his solitude he would have chased them away with a few choice angry words.

"N-Naneth isn't coming back," Legolas said and Thranduil put his hand to his heart.

"No," he answered. 

Legolas hung his head and started sniffling and began asking all the questions he'd refuse to ask of anyone else, so deep was his shame. "Did I do something wrong? Was it because I kept three frogs under my pillow when she told me to leave them in the pond? Ada, can you tell her I'll be good now? If I am good will she come back?"

"No, Legolas." Thranduil answered and Legolas began to become hysterical.

"Please Ada. Please. Make her come home please! I won't ever be bad again. I won't ever do wrong again. I won't ever lie or be disobedient. Please Ada. Please."

For the first time since he was able to sit up on his own Thranduil found himself gathering the strength to move. He knelt on the floor and took his son in his arms and let him cry before answering questions.

"You didn't do anything wrong. Naneth didn't choose to leave us. She would have never left you. She loves you. She was taken from us. She did not leave."

"Get her back!" Legolas cried as he fisted his hand in his father's hair. He hadn't noticed how his father's arms were bandaged or that his face was kept in shadow. "We'll get your elk and ride to get her." Galadriel had told him already that she was beyond their reach but he wouldn't believe it. 

"We cannot," Thranduil told him. "She is gone. She is not coming back."

"Why?" Legolas demanded. Thranduil sighed as he wondered how to explain death to a child. He had always protected him from the mortal world and even then death managed to encroach on their golden little world. 

"Because she is dead. She now dwells in the halls of Mandos." Legolas squeezed his father tighter and Thranduil fought back the cries of anguish at the friction against his tender flesh and the pain in his heart. 

Legolas whispered against his father's ear. "Then I will go there too."

Thranduil swallowed hard as his vision faded. "You would leave me here? All alone?"

"Yes," Legolas answered and for Thranduil everything went dark.  
\---

When Thranduil woke again it was to find himself in bed. Not but a few steps away several healers whispered amongst themselves as the sheer white curtains around his bed fluttered in the summer breeze.

He opened his mouth to summon their attention, but his throat was too dry and his voice came out in a croak. With a deep breath he forced himself into a sitting position and one of the healers turned.

"My Lord!" a dark haired elleth said as she moved toward him. She had a cup in her hand and passed it to him before he even asked.

"Legolas," Thranduil said once he could speak. "Where is he?"

"In the nursery with Lady Galadriel," the healer answered as she tried to fuss with his pillows and he pushed her away.

"Have him brought to me," Thranduil ordered forgetting that he was not in his own realm but in Lorien where he was not king.

The healer gave him a grim look and shook her head. "I don't think it would be wise, not after what happened last night. The poor thing was so traumatized and you should have stayed in your seat."

"Bring me my son," Thranduil hissed at the healer and she arched a perfect eyebrow at him. "Or I will climb from this bed and go find him myself." The healer tried to stare him down but finally she was forced to take several steps back. She turned to her assistant and told her to fetch the king's son.

He closed his eyes and when he opened them it was to see Lady Galadriel at the end of his bed holding his son by the hand.

"Good morning, Thranduil," she said then pushed Legolas forward.

"Come," Thranduil told his son as he patted a space beside himself on the bed. "Sit with me."

"Are you going to die?" Legolas, who was chewing on his hair, a new and frustrating habit to everyone but Galadriel, asked.

"I am not," Thranduil answered then managed to smile as Legolas climbed up on the bed and settled beside him.

"Does it hurt?" Legolas asked as he touched the bandage covering half of his father's face.

"A little," Thranduil lied as he stroked his son's hair. "How are you feeling?"

"Sad," Legolas answered then put his head on his father's lap. "And scared."

Thranduil sighed then looked at Galadriel for a moment as she watched with her hands clasped at her waist. "You can leave us. I would like to speak to him alone." He had expected Galadriel to admonish him to be careful or have some other order to give but she simply bowed her head slightly and walked away.

"I'm sorry," Legolas said as he rested his head on his father's leg. "For making you sick last night."

"You did not make me sick," Thranduil told him as he stroked Legolas' hair. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I am however sorry for scaring you." Legolas sighed and snuggled against his father.

"Lady Galadriel says that I cannot go to Naneth, that you need me to stay here with you," Legolas began. 

"Yes," Thranduil said as he closed his eyes. "I do need you here."

"We could both go," Legolas suggested. "But then who would look after Greenwood and all our friends? I don't think they would be happy with Lady Galadriel."

"So we must stay," Thranduil said.

"We must," Legolas agreed and was silent for so long Thranduil was sure he had fallen asleep.

"Will you tell me a story?" Legolas asked sleepily. "A happy story of when you were little, Ada?"

Thranduil took a deep breath. A happy story. Did such things exist? "Of course," he finally said. "Get the healer and tell her I need another drink and I will tell you as many stories as you'd like."

"Thank you," Legolas said as he jumped nimbly from the bed. Thranduil laid his head back and sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil tells Legolas of his early life when his father first took an interest in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artanis is Galadriel, which is the name she was known by before she became Galadriel. Celeborn aka Teleporno gave her the epessë (nickname) Alatáriel, which translates into Galadriel in Sindarin. 
> 
> In this part of the story she is still known as Artanis as she has not yet wed Celeborn.

Legolas ran into his father's room, jumped deftly onto the bed and cuddled up against his father as he caught his breath from running. A servant arrived not soon after carrying a pot of tea and a mug.

"Thank you," Thranduil told the servant as the tray with leg was sat on his lap. The servant bowed then produced several cookies from out of the air and gave them to Legolas who clapped in delight. Thranduil chuckled and nodded to the servant who smiled and left.

"Story time," Legolas said then took a bite of cookie, taking care not to drop crumbs all over his ada's bed.

Thranduil took a deep breath and nodded his head.  
\----

I grew up in Menegroth, the city of a thousand caves in the kingdom of Doriath. King Thingol and his queen, Melian ruled there. My father, Oropher called Thingol his great uncle. 

My arrival into this world took so much of my mother's energy that she was unable to survive my birth and passed into the halls of Mandos just as I arrived. My father fell ill with grief and anger. It was his anger at losing her I am told which kept him from fading and joining her.

Oropher put me away from him for many years and I was delivered into the arms of my cousin, Artanis who saw that I was cared for by servants before finally taking my care onto herself. She was constantly bringing me to my father begging him to see me, but he refused to see the child who stole his wife from him.

Finally, when I was nineteen, my father consented to meet with me. I remember setting my eyes on him for the first time and being overcome with awe.

Oropher was a proud though not always a wise Sindar. To me he was the tallest ellon I had ever met, though I am certain he was not the tallest of our kind. To me, however, he was larger than life. He wore his white gold hair in a single braid down his back. His armor was dark silver, his cape golden and his sword was something I instantly wished to wield for myself. 

"So this is my son," he said as he looked down at me. I felt as though he saw me as a bug not even fit to be crushed beneath his heel. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

I bowed to him as Artanis taught me and said, "I am pleased to stand before you, Ada." He sheathed his sword then bent down to my level and took my chin in his hand, turning my face one way and another as he examined me.

"You have your mother's bearing," he announced then gave me a small smile. "And for that I am pleased. Tell me what have they been teaching you, my son?"

"I have lessons on the lute," I told him proudly. Artanis loved when I played music and so I practiced diligently. "And the flute and dancing."

My father's eyebrows furrowed. "And what of running, jumping, fighting?"

"I run and jump when I dance," I told my father. There were not many other children my age so I often played with the ladys in the queen's court who fussed over me and gave me treats and taught me fine manners.

"And I assume they are teaching you healing and sewing as well," Oropher said acidly. "What about fighting? You should be learning to shoot a bow. Have you been hunting?"

"I would like to learn how to use the bow but no one has the time to teach me. I have not been hunting," I answered as I watched my father grow more and more angry.

"This is unacceptable!" he growled as he stood. "Artanis is more than capable of seeing to all your education and yet she is failing you." He paused took a deep breath and hung his head.

"Ada?" I questioned as his shoulders drooped and he braced himself on the wall.

"No," he said so softly that I could barely hear him. "It is I who have been failing you." He turned to look at me. "You will come with me and I will see to your education from now on."

I swallowed back my fear as he reached out his hand for me to take. I realized that the decision was mine. If I rejected him I could go back to Artanis, she would tell me stories and let me play my music and my life would continue on as it had, mostly lonely. She was going to be married soon and I knew she wanted to spend more time with Celeborn. Truly though, I did not understand the magnatude of the decision I was about to make.

"You'll show me how to use a sword?" I asked and my father smiled.

"Eventually, when you're a little older," he answered as he wriggled his fingers. "But in order to do that you have to be willing. Are you coming with me?" I did not hesitate to put my hand in my father's grasp and he whisked me away. 

"Here, take this," Oropher said as he passed me a small bow. "Let me see you string that bow and from there I'll know how to proceed." I looked at my father and he gave me an encouraging smile. 

I tried my best to attach the string to the bow. I had never done it nor had I seen it done and had no idea. I was at a complete loss as I pulled on the string and grunted as it slipped through my fingers time and time again.

"Here," Oropher said as he took the bow from my hands. He braced one side on the ground then pushed the bow down and strung and unstrung it so easily it made me laugh. He ruffled the hair on my head and bade me to try again.

"You made it look easy, Ada," I told him as I tried and failed to string the bow several times. He finally knelt down and helped me.

"We'll have to build your strength," he said. "You'll have an easier time pulling the bow but I doubt you can do it more than a few times. I'll have a training regiment set up for you. There will be no more of this languishing with the court ladies for you my son. You will become a mighty warrior and you will make your father proud."

"What about my music lessons?" I asked. Oropher frowned and shook his head. 

"When you have made me proud then you can return to the lute or the flute or the harp, whichever it is you play. But I want you to remember one very important thing. Can you do that for me, Thranduil?"

"Yes?" I asked. 

"From this day forward, you are not a musician," he said firmly as he held my gaze. "You are a warrior."

"Yes, Ada. I can remember that," I said as I thought about the lute in my bedroom. Would he take it away? I didn't know if I could stand to be parted from it. Artanis gave it to me after I had learned my first song and I loved it very much.

"I am going to show you how to shoot an arrow," Oropher said and I paid rapt attention and he pulled an arrow from the small quiver at his feet, knocked the arrow and shot it at the distant target.

"Are you ready to try?" he asked as he turned to me. 

"Yes," I answered as I took the bow. He helped me put the arrow on the bow then helped me hold the bow as I held the string. It wasn't unlike pulling on a lute string except I had to pull much harder and my fingers burned much more in the process.

"Aim for the target," he told me as he continued to help me hold the bow, though my arm was shaking as I pulled it back. "And let go." The arrow's flight was wild as it flew up toward the sky then landed a few feet from us and a great distance from the target.

"Again," he said as he handed me another arrow. This time the arrow flew a little straighter though it again clattered to the ground not far from us.

"Do not be discouraged," he told me. "Almost no one masters the bow on the first few tries. Let us keep practicing." On my fifth try I managed to at least hit the wall beside the target. I jumped up and down excitedly as my father nodded his head. My arms were tired and my finger's were sore but the happy look on my father's face meant that he approved.

"Come," he said as he took the bow from me. "I am going to introduce you to a friend of mine. You will come to know him very well in time." I followed him across the training grounds. It was difficult to keep up with him as I wanted to stop and observe all the soldier's training with their weapons.

"Raunien," Oropher called. "Where are you? I want you too meet my son, Thranduil."

"Your son?" A ellon with the shortest hair I'd ever seen asked as he stepped out of a nearby room. He looked at me for a moment then turned to my father. "Are you bringing me a new student then?"

"Yes," Oropher said. "He is woefully untrained but I believe he will catch on quickly. He has grown soft spending all his time with the ladies at court."

Raunien smiled wryly as he looked me over. "He is no softer than we were in our youth. He has good posture and is tall for an ellon his age."

"Like his father," Oropher said proudly.

"Come with me, Thranduil," Raunien said as he gestured to me to follow. "I'll show you to your rooms."

"My rooms?" I asked as I turned to my father.

"You will be living in the soldier's barracks," he told me. "It will be easier for you to keep up with and focus on your training. I do not want Raunien having to seek you out every morning to drag you to lessons."

"I should go get my things," I said. I wanted to run to Artanis and tell her what was happening. While I wanted to learn how to use weapons and I wanted to make my father proud. I did not want to give up the only life I had ever known.

"No," Oropher said as he put his hand on my shoulder. "There is nothing there you will need. You have a new life now, Thranduil."

\---  
"Ada," Legolas interrupted. "I thought you were going to tell me a happy story."

Thranduil frowned. "I am telling you a happy story. I'm telling you about how I became close to my father and learned how to fight."

"But what about your lute?" Legolas asked. "What happened to it?" 

Thranduil took a deep breath as he leaned his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes. "I didn't play again for a very long time," he answered. What he didn't tell Legolas was that his father had caught him playing the lute several weeks later and had in a rage, shattered it against the wall.

"And Galadriel just let you go? She didn't fight to keep you with her?" Legolas asked his voice growing in pitch with his own fear.

"Legolas, she had no say in where my father placed me, she was my cousin not my mother. I no longer lived with her after that." Thranduil frowned. This was a sad story now that he thought about it. He had wept for her for many nights but she had abandoned him. He had been angry with her for a long time. No, he was still angry with her. She could have tried to keep him, she was the only mother he had ever known. Their association dwindled to feast days and the occasional short conversations when passing through long corridors and he completely forgot that he had once loved Galadriel as a mother.

"Are... Are you going to make me give up my lute?" Legolas asked on a hiccuping sob. "And make me live with a soldier to train me?"

"No," Thranduil said as he caressed his son's hair. "I would never do such a thing. You already know how to use a bow do you not?"

"Yes," Legolas answered as he sniffled.

"And you know how to wield a sword?"

"Yes, Ada. And I can play the flute too and sing. I can string my own bow and sharpen my own sword." Legolas smiled "And you never made me live away from you and Naneth."

"And I will never leave you to someone else to raise," Thranduil promised as he felt his dim fae brighten as he made the final decision. "If you wish to be a soldier it is your choice. If you want to become a healer, a painter, an arms maker or anything else, I will always be proud of you Ion nin. Because I love you."

He winced as Legolas threw his arms around him. "I love you too, Ada."


End file.
